


Tonight I can write the saddest lines...

by EliKagsHina



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Love Poems, M/M, No Dialogue, Poetry, Sad Miya Atsumu, Soft Sakusa Kiyoomi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28742001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliKagsHina/pseuds/EliKagsHina
Summary: Sakusa is a writer.He's sad, he's alone and he can't help but remember and write about everything.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Tonight I can write the saddest lines...

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is not mine!  
> It is authored by Pablo Neruda, his writings are beautiful, I invite you to read them. Only use this poem because it is the one that best fits the story. 
> 
> This idea didn't let me sleep last night and I had to write it down.

_Tonight I can write the saddest lines._

_Write, for example: “The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance. “_

Sakusa looked at the crowded night in Tokyo through the window of her apartment, everything was so modern. He looked at the big buildings and their lights, the other apartments rose around his building, bigger, smaller. In the street, cars ran and the sound of traffic reached the tenth floor even with all the windows closed, in other times he liked the noise. People were walking along the sidewalks in a hurry to get home after a long day's work. Sakusa knew it; he was one of those people a long time ago. His eyes went to the sky, only the moon greeted him without any stars around her, the strong lights of the city dimming the immensity of the sky. He was at his house but not at home.

_The night wind revolves in the sky and sings._

If the wind blew gently at night making the weather cool and pleasant, Sakusa didn't know. He could open the sliding door that led to the balcony to find out but that didn't make any sense. Why find out if it was cold if he didn't have the only person who provided warmth with him? He closed his eyes and even in the comfort of his apartment he felt cold.

_Tonight I can write the saddest lines._

_I loved him, and sometimes he loved me too._

He turned away from the window, his laptop waiting for him on the small dining room table. The ideas for his new book were scattered all over the room, the yellow sofa, the blue clock on the wall, the green sweater he was wearing, the photo on the shelf above the television, the books on the floor of the room and the rug he brought of Hyogo.

_Through nights like this one I held him in my arms_

_I kissed him again and again under the endless sky._

Hyogo… the city that was once his home. The city that saw him grow up, the city where rice fields covered large tracts of land, the city that gave him great summers full of fun, the city where his mother prepared breakfast every morning, the city that was hardly known for the rest of the world, the city where he met him. The city that witnessed their stupid romance, the shy kisses between two black and blonde locks, the words of devotion while watching the stars from the garden of his house, the caresses while lying in bed and fights when they forgot how important it was communication. Hyogo, the city that saw him write on a sheet of his history notebook to organize his feelings, the city where he began to write love poems, the city that saw him happily dedicate those poems. Hyogo, his home, where it all began.

_He loved me, sometimes I loved him too._

_How could one not have loved his great still eyes!_

Sakusa had a habit of wondering what it was that he had done wrong, as if he didn't know that everything was wrong from the beginning. He grabbed his journal and a pen, forgetting the book he must be writing, and thought of brown eyes shining as they watched the sunset with fascination, as if the sunsets would cease to exist the next day. Those same brown eyes that smiled sweetly at him when no one else was around him, those eyes that once looked at him with so much love even when he didn't deserve that love.

_Tonight I can write the saddest lines._

_To think that I do not have him. To feel that I have lost him._

Brown eyes that no longer saw him. He no longer deserves to have those pretty eyes look at him. Things were fine like that, he had earned this pain, this was fair. Nobody hurts what they love and he tore it apart. And even knowing all that he felt so empty ... the apartment felt so empty, it may be three years but he will still wait for the blonde hair to appear at the door complaining about the horrible atmosphere in Tokyo. He would wake up every morning and look sleepy for the non-existent person next to him, unconsciously prepare two coffees for breakfast, buy fertilizer for some plants that withered two years ago because he never understood how to take care of them and every night he would wait for arms to cling at his waist while someone whispers "good night, my Omi-Omi".

_To hear the immense night, still more immense without him._

_And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture._

He wrote, letting all his thoughts plague the last blank page of his journal. All his feelings held back for so long came out in the moonlight, no one criticized him, no one judged him for feeling, no one judged him for being wrong, no one criticized him for being human. The moon looked at him, the moon smiled at him and pitied him. She was the guardian of all those failed loves, she was the guardian of all those broken hearts and those sad lovers left behind. No one better than the moon understood the young black-haired poet, no one but her could understand all the verses he was writing, the tears that peeked in his eyes, the sweet and cruel pain in his heart.

_What does it matter that my love could not keep him._

_The night is shattered and he is not with me._

Oh… Sakusa's love ruined it, his selfishness ruined everything. He was too happy to have his dream job and the love of his life in Tokyo that he didn't realize that the pretty, bright brown eyes were turning sad. He had to be more observant, he didn't have to be blinded by his joy. If he had asked what _he_ wanted maybe… just maybe he would be in his arms tonight, in Tokyo, in Osaka or Hyogo… but in his arms. He cut off the beautiful wings of his beloved, cut off his dreams and dragged him to Tokyo, took him to the last place he wanted to be and held him. It was no surprise when the little bird got tired of his bitter life and flew away when someone else gave him back his wings.

_This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance._

_My soul is not satisfied that it has lost him._

No matter Sakusa's desperate pleas, no matter the tears and regretful gasps, he had already made a decision, a selfish decision, but how to hate him? If it was the first time brown eyes allowed themselves to be selfish. So he lost it, a last kiss full of pain and regrets, a kiss full of memories, a bitter, sad kiss ... and so they disappeared behind the door 8 years together. They went away, away in search of a dream, miles away from Tokyo, _away_ , their beloved bright eyes went away and now they see the sunsets in Osaka.

_My sight searches for him as though to go to him._

_My heart looks for him and he is not with me._

_He thought he would come back, foolishly he told himself it was temporary, a few days, a few weeks or maybe a few months. He would return, he did not change anything in the apartment, he left the black sheets that he liked, he continued to buy his favorite cereal, he continued to wait for him at night, he continued to cry. What else could he do? He did not want to be hated by him, he could not go to Osaka to look for him and ask for his forgiveness, he could not go after him because he knew how long ago the blonde locks stopped waiting to be followed. Sometimes his desperate senses deceive him and make him believe that he saw him in the living room, he thinks sees him walking down the street, he thinks sees him in a store buying a black shirt, he thinks he is calling him in his dreams, he thinks he smells his perfume of pine trees in the living room and breakfast being prepared in the kitchen… He believes but none of those things are true._

_The same night whitening the same trees._

_We, of that time, are no longer the same._

So he is alone, he is sitting at his table writing all his pains. There was no longer a trace of the two 15-year-old teenagers who declared their love under fireworks at a summer festival, what happened to those two boys? They'll be fine? Sakusa wanted to go back to those times without worries, he wanted to go back in time and do everything again. He wanted to go back to his high school days and stay with his boyfriend cleaning the classroom, he wanted back his spring Saturdays swimming in the lake, the nights when they ran away from home to go to the woods and watch fireflies, he wanted to see again two twins making lunch because that's what they liked to do the most while he waited in the living room playing video games with Suna, he wanted to hear the shrill voice complain about his math homework. He wanted to go back to the time when they were both happy.

_I no longer love he, that's certain, but how I loved he._

_My voice tried to find the wind to touch his hearing._

He yearned to kiss Atsumu's plump lips again; he yearned for the bleached hair and soft skin on his back. What would he give to repaint his neck with purple marks and his thighs with affectionate bites? He loved him so much, he loved him madly and it was killing him. Who was he without the cute man with the tender smile? How good would his books and stories be if his inspiration had left him and taken a train to Osaka? How far would he go before he collapsed and realized he was lost? How many years would it take? Would he be able to recover from all that? He loved him, shit; god knows how he loves him. It was never his intention to hurt him, he never wanted to take over all of Atsumu and still he did. He hated himself for it.

_Another's. He will be another's. Like my kisses before._

_His voice. His bright body. His infinite eyes._

Now Atsumu was where he should be, fulfilling his dream of being a great chef in a fancy restaurant in Osaka, being happy and properly loved by Kita Shinsuke. Now his brown eyes look at him, his loving gaze belongs to him, his reckless jokes are for him, his love, laugh, lips, his body and everything that once was of Sakusa now belongs to the rice farmer. The nights of love, the muffled moans, the begging for more and the pleasure of going even further into his delicate body, the scratches on the back, the taste of his body covered with sweat, the watery eyes along with the flushed cheeks and the laughs after finishing… that and more had taken Kita from him.

_I no longer love he, that's certain, but maybe I love he._

_Love is so short, forgetting is so long._

He met him when they were 5 years old, it was the two of them forever, not even Osamu could keep up with the two misunderstood children. Would they blame the poet for falling in love with the person who accepted him and stayed by his side from the beginning? And how happy he felt when his love was reciprocated, only 15 years old and he knew the joy of reciprocity. Sakusa didn't remember her life before meeting those blonde locks. How did she move on? What did he do before joining the life of the older of the twins? He doesn't remember but he doesn't want to. Loving Atsumu was easy, it was something that had to happen, as the snow comes in winter Sakusa would come to love the bright brown eyes. They were together for eight years and it has been three years since they separated ... How many years does it take for her to stop loving him? Was this his punishment? Remembering all his life the man he love and was hers but now he was kissing someone else's lips?

_Because through nights like this one I held him in my arms_

_my soul is not satisfied that it has lost him._

And Sakusa will cry, shed tears trying to forget it. He will let his books have sad endings because the happy ending did not come for him. He will tell everyone that he forgot Atsumu and that he doesn't care anymore, he will dare to go out with that girl who always looks at him flirtatiously when he goes to his office, he will pretend that he is happy and does not know sadness, he will go out to party and he will meet his old friends again. He'll expect everyone to congratulate him for moving on and laugh. But all that matters because he can lie to his acquaintances, to every inhabitant of Japan, to his family and his neighbors, but the only person who must convince greets him every time he looks in the mirror and laughs at him because none of his actions are for real. His eyes are still searching for him, his skin misses his touch, his ears miss being called _Omi_ and his lips still want his kisses. Was this how the poets who wrote those sad poems that made them read in their literature class felt?

_Though this be the last pain that he makes me suffer_

_and these the last verses that I write for him._

He put the pen on the table and looked at the poem he just wrote, some tears fall down his cheeks and then he promises to burn that diary. The journal that he bought 3 months after his ex-boyfriend left home, the journal that is full of love poems that Atsumu will never read, the journal that kept him sane for the past few years. It has just taken up the last available page, the diary is no longer useful, and there is no longer a place to write sad things. Sakusa promises himself that he will no longer write to Atsumu, he must remove his finger from the wound, he must no longer nurture a love that long ago died from his terrible care, the melancholic verses will not bring him back and he knows it. He won't write to her anymore, he promises himself.

But the next day Sakusa buys another journal and the wound opens once more.

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of context: 
> 
> Sakusa is a poet who was born in Hyogo and he was friends with Atsumu and they eventually became a couple. After high school he was offered a scholarship in Tokyo and Atsumu went with him, putting aside his dream of being a chef. Atsumu, no matter how much he loved Kiyoomi, was not happy because he had given up everything he cared about for his boyfriend and after a few years he went to Osaka to study gastronomy. 
> 
> Neither Kiyoomi nor Atsumu are the bad guys in the story, I just wanted to write a story about poor communication and its consequences on two people who love each other. Because Atsumu even being with Kita is still in love with Kiyoomi and constantly think about going back to him.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Your comments make me happy.


End file.
